INDIA – Varanasi – 15th – 21st February

Some information for those of you who have not heard of Varanasi (like I hadn’t until about five years ago)

Varanasi has been a cultural centre of northern India for several thousand years, and is closely associated with the Ganges. Hindus believe that dying here and getting cremated along the banks of the “holy” Ganges river allows one to break the cycle of rebirth and attain salvation, making it a major center for pilgrimage. The city is known worldwide for its many ghats, embankments made in steps of stone slabs along the river bank where pilgrims perform ritual ablutions. Of particular note are the Dashashwamedh Ghat Panchganga Ghat, the and Manikarnika Ghat the Harishchandra Ghat, the last two being where Hindus cremate their dead.

I have no idea where to start with this blog. This place is like no other we’ve been to, it’s filthy dirty, chaotic but amazingly colourful and vibrant. The people are either delightful and friendly or right down to nasty and threatening….. luckily the latter were the minority. As the place that Hindus take their beloved dead for cremation it is, as you would imagine thought provoking, sad and at times depressing. However, the next minute a noisy wedding procession makes its way past you, dancing through the narrow alleyways as they go down to the ghats and you find yourself uplifted and energised too. I have felt every possible emotion during our time here. Most people find it spiritual but we found it difficult to understand how! Most tourists spend one or two nights here we were told, we spent six days and nights here in a damp and grubby guest house without glass in the windows, instead badly fitting wooden shutters. It gave us time to explore far beyond the usual tourist alleyways and sights and get a feel of what it must be like to live here…… we were left wondering how the locals coped with their environment and why others who visit end up staying here for years! The lack of glass in our room’s windows and the close proximity to the buildings across the very narrow alleyway meant we got a very good in-site in to the hours the locals kept (unsocial!) and what they did behind the walls of their small homes. Don’t ask. 

Glen said “what can we say about Varanasi that hasn’t been said before?” He smiled and said “it’s cleaner here than we thought it would be” lol!  To put that in context it’s just goes to show what low expectations we had of the hygiene here and what dirty areas of India we’ve visited during the last six weeks and during our visit to Rajistan in 2015. A lot of the filth can be avoided if you have a higher budget and view the sights from a clean taxi and stay in a posh hotel. However, here in Varanasi the taxis and even some of the rickshaws can only get you so far due to the width of the alleyways, no matter what your budget. 

They laughed at the airport when I said to the driver (as always)  “don’t go fast and don’t overtake!!” I now know why! It was chaos! There was solid traffic or slow traffic at best. There was not enough room to overtake and if they did it was too slow to be dangerous. It was worse than usual because their Prime Minister was due the following day they said. There were generally no road markings and when there were they didn’t take any notice of them anyway. 

Bikes and taxis only just miss each other, and the people walking, and I was concerned about the close proximity of… well everything! That said, there does not seem to be any road rage and no one seemed stressed or angry! Even when they were nearly run over! Why was that!? 

When we got to the narrow alleys we had to get out of the taxi and walk the rest of the way to our Guest House. Having managed not to be knocked over on the ‘main’ road, we had to navigate through the cows, goats, bikes, rickshaws, motorbikes, hand carts of all sorts being delivered or sold, food carts, wedding processions, dogs, beggars, piles of rubbish, cow pats, dog poo, human poo, soiled nappies etc until we finally arrived at our guest house. The doors had noisy metal shutters “to keep the cows and monkeys out”. How do people live here like this!? It would drive me round the bend.

When we entered the guest house we were welcomed by the manager who also lives in the building with his wife, children and extended family. He introduced himself and his “brother cousin” who was chewing betel and therefore had trouble speaking to us as he was trying to keep the red saliva from leaking out of his mouth. This was the man who would be making our breakfast at the same time as feeding the monkeys (without washing his hands in between!) The monkeys looked through the metal mesh that surrounded the breakfast area, and in fact the mesh covered the whole building. We were told not to feed the monkeys but the “Brother cousin” was clearly not a follower of rules. 

He is also the man who sleeps in reception (which is right outside of our room!) along with another man who looked like he was allowed to stay there as a favour or as a charitable act. While I’m telling you about these two men I just want to tell you about one morning at 5am. I was woken up by a repeating tune which I eventually realised was from a mobile phone alarm, coming from reception. After about 20 minutes I got dressed (Glen had his ear plugs in) and went out to reception. Both men were fast asleep. So I unplugged the phone and held it to the ear of the “Brother cousin” ……. nothing! He didn’t flinch. I decided to turn the alarm off and gently touch his foot through the blanket…… nothing! I then gentle nudged him…… eventually I was quite violently rocking him back and forth but to no avail! He just snored louder and turned to snuggle down! So I went back to bed and lay there wondering what the alarm had been for. Was he supposed to be taking someone on a sunset boat trip to hear the morning Atari at the Assi ghat I wondered? I didn’t wonder for too long before hearing the front door bell! After a few rings, silence and ringing again someone opened the door (metal shutters) which meant the street dogs started to bark again and the neighbours woke up and started talking loudly………  AGAIN! Happy days!

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This lady sat picking nits out of the child’s hair.

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Once we left our dark damp room each morning we found it hot, but a lot of the locals wore coats or jumpers and woolly hats and scarves. They especially wrap the children up as if its winter! It is cooler at night but we would be baking hot if we wore what they had on.

The steps down to the Ghats were full of beggars and people selling vegetables. There were cows walking right by the veg on the floor, I mean right by the veg! Stepping on the edges of the veg!! I think God (one of them) the cows must poop on the veg sometimes.

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People were buying these empty containers so they could fill them with water from the Ganges to take home with them.

We followed many wedding parades through the streets to temples and then down to the Ganges with musicians playing loud music and people dancing, and like I said it lifted my spirits. There was one where an older women (I assumed she was the mother of the bride or groom) started laying down on the dirty stone floors ahead of the procession, her arms outstretched to the Ganges river as they reached the steps of the ghat. She was presumably praying to what they refer to as mother Ganges or Maa Ganga. When they reached the waters edge she took her sari off and bathed in the filthy water of the river before putting a more appropriate wedding outfit on and joining the wedding party and musicians on a boat.

You can just about see the older woman laying on the floor in this picture.

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They come here to the Ganges to have the marriage blessed in what is the last part of the marriage ritual. The marriage ceremony takes place in the girl’s parents house, then she is taken to her husband’s family, where she will spend the rest of her life. They then all excitedly parade through the alleyways down to the river and it is a strange but wonderful sight to see when just down the river bodies are burning.

A thick rope, entwined with flowers, is attached to the boat which they tow behind them as they make their way towards the sandbank on the opposite side. 

The young members of the group dance wildly outside of the temple to the beat of the drums as the rest of the group go in to the temple (on the left) with the bride and groom. I so wanted to join in!

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We saw people who had painted their feet red. Apparently painting the soles of your feet with red liquid dye and adorning the upper foot with elaborate designs brings out the beauty of the feet. It is a common Indian tradition, particularly during religious festivals and weddings. Its application not only enhances the beauty of the feet but also provides a cooling effect to the body. All they had to do was walk around bare foot here and the betel saliva that is spat out would dye their feet red!! Lots of people do walk around bare footed here actually. I said to Glen that no matter how carefully you try to avoid stepping in the cow, dog and human poo here you can see that someone has stepped in it or driven through it on a bike so those peoples feet must have a certain amount of poo on their feet!! And then they all sit crosslegged everywhere so their saris and trousers must get poo on them! It’s very ‘itchy’ here as you would say Mark!!

Random Observation. The dogs lick the ‘moisture’ (lets call it moisture to be polite) from the nostrils of the cows! What is that about!? It’s like the little cleaner fish in the sea we see cleaning the larger fish. But dogs ‘cleaning’ a cows nose!? We’ve never seen that before. Although we have seen a bird pecking at a cow’s bottom! (I think it was in Jaipur)

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Have you ever had the dream of being chased by something, it’s usually cows or horses for me. Anyway sometimes I can fly up out of the way but often I get weary and instead of flying or running I just give in. It sort of reminds me of that dream here!

Sarees drying on the floor after being washed in the river!

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Walking back to our guest house on the first night I thought that the maze of alleyways all look the same and we could be lost but I suddenly knew we were on the right track when I saw the soiled nappy (yellow liquid poo) in the middle of the alley which we passed on the way out. Then the, what looked like two dead bodies covered in flowers in a little room with bars and incense confirmed it! We were back ‘home’ (apparently they were not dead bodies but I couldn’t get a proper answer to what they were!)

There are people working in these narrow dirty alleyways. We went down one past three old people ironing on old makeshift tables up against the dirty walls with monkeys climbing above them and the rest of the list of things I previously mentioned going past them. They were using the big, heavy coal filled irons that we saw in the Dhobi khana public laundry in Fort Kochi.  I have no idea how they didn’t get black coal dust or ashes on the shirts they were ironing. They stood there all day, back breaking work and annoying surely with cows, dogs, bikes …and tourists going by!

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When I pass the rear of a cow I always do it quickly because by the look of the cow pats on the stone slab floors of the alleys that poo drops and splashes in all directions and up the walls!!! God (Gods!) help us if they go as you are passing!

The cows they are sort of cute and not frightening even the large ones at close quarters. However, we came around the corner one night and there was a bull with his head down coming towards us with his horns that were about to scoop me up and toss me into the air (I thought) and so I panicked and grabbed Glen to get behind him. Which meant that, without thinking I actually pushed him towards the bull in doing so! 🙈 ooops! I’ve felt bad ever since 😂 but I can’t promise not to do it again. I’ve since realised they are not actually bulls…. they have udders! But still!

On the way to the guest house from the airport we saw cow dung ‘bricks’ stacked in circular piles in fields.  We have also since seen them drying on the side of the walls of a house in the lanes of Varanasi where tourists aren’t usually walking!

“Dry dung fuel (or dry manure fuel) is animal feces that has been dried in order to be used as a fuel source. It is used in many countries. A disadvantage of using this kind of fuel is increased air pollution. In India, this kind of fuel source is known as ‘dung cakes’ “

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The ghats were full of sadhus (Holy men) with malas around their necks and wrapped around their head/turbans/dreadlocks. (In Hinduism, a mala is a string of beads or knots, used for prayer and meditation). They are often dressed in saffron coloured clothes which is the holiest of colours. 

If a holy man (or anyone actually) asked us if we wanted to take their photo we said no, because they were beggars not holy men, holy men wouldn’t offer that. 

We read that a gentleman called Baba Luxman is one of the few sadhus who was actually born in Varanasi.  He has never married or had children and is now 70 years old.  He lives on Raja Ghat (near our guest house) where he runs a very popular chai stall. We went to shake his hand and show him an article about him that we came across on-line. We purposely didn’t ask to take a photo as I’m sure he gets that all the time so it was just nice to meet him and know that he was a genuine holy man. 

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Dashashwamedh Ghat where every night they perform a ritual/prayers to the Ganges 

Ganga Aarti (ritual of offering prayer to the Ganges river) is held daily at dusk. Several priests perform this ritual by carrying deepam and moving it up and down in a rhythmic tune of bhajans.  

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The purpose of aarti is to show humility and gratitude to God’s divine form. Ganga aarti is a devotional offering to the River Goddess. … This offering is made to the Goddess Ganga, also affectionately referred to as Maa, the Mother Goddess of the most holy river in India.

We read not to go to The tower of silence in Mumbai because of the ghosts that are there but by crikey this place must be choca block with ghosts! Although Hindus believe the spirits of those cremated in Varanasi have achieved Nirvana so they won’t be here I guess! 

‘Nirvana is a place of perfect peace and happiness, like heaven. … The origin of the word nirvana relates to religious enlightenment; it comes from the Sanskrit meaning “extinction, disappearance” of the individual to the universal. Achieving nirvana is to make earthly feelings like suffering and desire disappear.’  I just think of it as Dead, Dead. 

A boat full of wood making its way to the burning ghat.

‘The Manikarnika ghat is the primary site for Hindu cremation in the city. According to a myth, it is said that an earring of Shiva or his wife Sati fell here.’

Maybe that’s what the guys were looking for, stood waist deep as they sifted through the mud and rubbish with metal pans at the waters edge by the cremated bodies. Although I think they could have been panning for jewellery from the ashes of the bodies that are cremated here, because the ashes are put into the water once the bodies have burnt. Or they could be doing something Holy I guess (wink)

At the Harishchandra ghat (the smaller of the two burning ghats) we spoke to a member of the family of Doms. He told us all about what happens there. We watched as the oldest son or in the case of no children, the husbands of their dead wives were having their head shaved in respect for their dead. They were carrying the body down to the Ganges on a ‘stretcher’ covered in garlands of flowers and ‘washed’ the body by dipping it in to the Ganges. They peel back the shroud and put the Holy water of the Ganges into the mouth of the corpse. They lift the body from the wooden stretcher onto a pile of wood, light the pyre from a burning ‘torch’ and then they walk around the body five times (re the five elements)

While this is going on goats and cows gather and stand chewing on garlands of marigold flowers left behind on the stretchers after the funeral rites. There are beggars walking around looking for ‘alms’ and the whole scene is Biblical. 

‘Doms are the caretakers of the cremation grounds and the main keepers of the fire that lights the pyres. “One cannot enter the gates of heaven if their bodies are cremated without the presence of a Dom.’

The dried grass torch is lit from a flame that has been burning continuously for 1000s of years. The Doms are the keepers of the flame and perform the cremation and ceremony but a different caste sources and sells the wood to the families. Rich families were buying Sandalwood and poor families buy any cheaper wood they can afford.

We didn’t stay to watch the bodies burning as it takes about three hours but two German girls we met here had been watching one cremation and a foot dropped off and fell to the ground and they picked it up and put it back on the fire 😳 I don’t mean the girls picked it up, the men attending the cremation did. They cremate about 70 bodies a day all year round. What a life the Doms have. It has been impossible to leave the profession as people will not employ them because they come from the lowest caste. I think it’s ridiculous. We’ve often said that people like these lower castes in India could have the brains to find a cure to many illnesses in the world but they have been denied education because of their caste. ‘The untouchables’. I have read that this is changing now, I hope it is true.

People here are living simple lives, we watched the children playing with stones tied on a fishing wire, chasing old tyres with sticks and children and adults alike were Kite fighting. Or playing with piles of rubbish making dens.

We were taking a short cut, or that was the aim, through an area where tourists clearly didn’t walk through. There was a whole Muslim quarter, I joined two fully covered women who were cowering away from a pack of fighting dogs and in our shared fear I felt a bond, an understanding which transcended our very different cultures and faith. Glen just said “they were just using you as a shield.” lol! 

The alleyways were much dirtier away from the tourist cafes (hard to believe it was possible!) and I felt embarrassed for the people who lived there as we walked past them.

We could see a dim light coming from a basement area as we walked down a dark alley. I bent down and saw it was a man sat on the floor of a dirty ‘room’ cutting up meat. I was delighted that we had come across this little ‘butcher’ in the back streets of where the locals live. (I’ve just realised that he could have just murdered someone and was secretly cutting them into pieces!😳) Anyway he couldn’t understand what I was saying. Eventually someone walked by who just about understood what I was saying. He managed to tell the ‘butcher’ that I would like to take a photo to show my Dad because he is a butcher too. At first he said no but eventually he agreed.

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As I’m sat making notes for this blog I can hear so many noises outside. The monkeys, birds, the Muslim call to prayer, someone shouting selling things from a cart, a man who sounds like he is battling with a cow, shouting and shooing it away from something (as is always happening) and people taking loudly as always. It sounds chaotic out there…. oh and now there are barking and squealing dogs added to the mix. How everyone seems so calm living here I have no idea! Although I think there are a few people who are sadly not so calm or perhaps mentally unstable. There is a man shouting now, in a way that sounds like, if he was shouting in English it would be “Rollin, Rollin, Rollin. Rollin, Rollin, Rollin…. Move ’em on, head ’em up. Head ’em up, move ’em on. Move ’em on, head ’em up, rawhide” 😂 I realise most of our younger readers will have no idea what I’m on about 😂 ……check it out on YouTube.

Man and women sat in tiny spaces in their shops.

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Milk being made in to curd and paneer cheese in the open air, in uncovered containers and those that have a cover are sealed using grass or straw etc. No wonder I found two large crickets in my lassi in Pushkar in 2015!

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To avoid a motorbike coming towards me at speed, I had to step to the side, right by a man sat in a tiny shop which was more reminiscent of a cave cut out of the stone walls. He was selling saris and he said to me “You looking?” I said “Yes I’m looking to save my life” because the motorbikes storm by everyone in the small alleys and even if you stand back they nearly hit you! One young boy went past us at speed on a pushbike and caught both mine and Glen’s arm with the handlebars and I’m ashamed to say I used a swear word which was totally inappropriate for the boys age and this Holy place we were in, but it’s ridiculous. Why don’t the locals get angry? Set some rules! I don’t get it!! I asked the taxi driver on the way here “don’t you have accidents here driving like this?” And he said “yes everyday” 🙄😳

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People live in these tiny little stone rooms with just a cloth as a door.

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This house, which we walked past every night, had a room full of cows that they had to walk through to get to their kitchen at the back or upstairs to the right. That can’t be healthy! The other photos didn’t come out very well, but this will give you an idea.

I’m just bewildered how people come here and find it relaxing and spiritual, how they can relax and meditate with all the noise and the filth. You either love it or hate it here it seems.

So unsurprisingly this spiritual city on the banks of the sacred Ganges River is actually a serious health risk.

The Ganges is a lifeline to millions who live along its course. It is a most sacred river to Hindus, and worshiped as goddess Ganga in Hinduism. We watched people bathing in it, washing their clothes in it and filling their kettles with the water for cooking. And yet the Ganges is threatened by pollution, the danger this poses is not only to humans, but also to animals. The levels of bacteria from human waste in the river near Varanasi are more than a hundred times the Indian government’s official limit. The Ganga Action Plan, an environmental initiative to clean up the river, is considered a failure, which is variously attributed to corruption, a lack of will in the government, poor technical expertise and environmental planning, and a lack of support from religious authorities.59% of all human waste is emptied into the river daily along with industrial waste and ashes of the 70,000 bodies cremated here each year along with the bodies that are simply thrown in. Those who cannot be cremated are weighted down and left to decompose in the river. Even today, holy men, pregnant women, people with leprosy/chicken pox, people who have been bitten by snakes, people who have committed suicide, the poor, and children under 5 are not cremated at the ghats but are left to float free, in order to decompose in the waters. In addition, those who cannot afford the large amount of wood needed to incinerate the entire body, leave behind a lot of half burned body parts.The incidence of water-borne and enteric diseases, such as gastrointestinal disease, cholera, dysentery, hepatitis A and typhoid, among people who use the river’s waters for bathing, washing dishes and brushing teeth is high, at an estimated 66% per year.

As I share this information with you I’ve just remembered why we decided against visiting here in 2015, having said that I’m so pleased we did come here on this trip….. and get out unscathed.